


And to that kiss a score

by middlemarch



Category: Mercy Street (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, F/M, Fluff, Marriage, Scientific Method, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 18:29:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9779039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/middlemarch/pseuds/middlemarch
Summary: She had twice married scientists.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was my response to an anonymous request for some Phoster fluff, modern or historical, one day after Valentine's. The title is from Robert Herrick.

“Your beard tickles,” Mary said smiling up at him from where she sat at her lacy dressing table. He liked to watch her plait her hair before bed, a leisurely luxury he’d never imagined when they had worked together at Mansion House. She laughed when he said it, pointing out he rarely contented himself with watching, eager to help with her transformation into the Mary who shared his bed, no longer either the Baroness or Mrs. Foster when the door closed behind them. Had the other women in his life had so many aspects he was unaware of? He could not decide if he had been inattentive to their more varied selves or whether it was simply that Mary was the most complex woman of his acquaintance. He had thought he’d known her when they married shortly after her recovery from typhoid, but he had discovered, to his perpetual delight and never his dismay, that he had been mistaken. 

Jed had known how generous she was with others, how forgiving of the myriad flaws that he might barely tolerate but he found his wife Mary was a fine mimic, a talent which made their evenings ring with laughter, and he now recognized the glint in her eye when she was noting another’s foibles and tone. She had an inordinate fondness for sweets, one she would not lightly indulge, and he had become the confectioner’s best customer in response. She did not care for sewing though she made sure the mending was done promptly and well and she missed nursing but never complained that their marriage had ended her vocation. She was a better scholar than he was, happy to spend her afternoons in perusal of weighty mathematics texts and she caressed his microscope in the study when she dusted it almost as lovingly as his face when he returned home.

And he had discovered that in the privacy of their room, she was given to a wonderful, contemplative bawdiness without a hint of shame, an exuberant delight in the exercise of her marital duty which rendered the expression irrelevant, and a keen sense of how far she might go before she shocked him and how she might turn his surprise to their mutual, ecstatic benefit. As she was clearly prepared to this evening with her remark about his beard, her gaze merry and assessing.

“Shall I rid myself of it then? I admit I am much accustomed to it, but for you, I would make any sacrifice,” he declared theatrically, stroking her bare shoulder softly, pushing aside the muslin pleats to feel her warm, silky skin.

“Are you not a scientist, Jed? I offered an observation, not a complaint or admonition,” she said, tying the ribbon on the second plait. It would not be very long before he had pulled the bow loose and freed all her chestnut curls but she would persist in her toilette despite his obvious intentions. “Can you not develop a hypothesis regarding the appropriate application of such sensation? Or do you need my assistance?”

“I welcome your assistance in this endeavor as in all. If you’d like to enlighten me further?” he replied, waiting for her response with a markedly growing interest he knew she had not failed to notice.

“I propose the location is the deciding variable but of course, the only way to know is through experiment and careful, dedicated collection of results,” she said, winsome and flirtatious. 

He would not keep her waiting and took her in his arms, his mouth at her throat, her lips, the tops of her breasts, careful to listen for her giddy response. He expected there would be a joyful hour spent acquiring the data she required and that afterwards, she would be more than happy to review the methodology and offer suggestions, even with a demonstration if he asked for it, before they both considered the conclusion in dreams they shared, blithely defying any science but true nonetheless.


End file.
